


the wolven storm

by raveness_ov



Series: family of destiny [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 12:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raveness_ov/pseuds/raveness_ov
Summary: I decided to write a continuation to my piece "a raven's storm" but from Geralt's POV and four years after it's events. Also if you're following my story "of lilac and gooseberries" I'm sorry to say that I won't be posting it Tuesday because I'm having trouble thinking of what I want to do in this said chapter. Hope everyone is having a nice Valentine's Day.





	the wolven storm

_The frost had nipped at the witcher’s skin as he had sat across the raven-haired woman, the scent that had usually accompanied her presence was gone, drowned out by the wind that blew past them. “I thought… you’d become a stranger to me… that I’d look at you and not feel a thing.” the sorceress had continued on, he couldn’t remember what she had said before but he had known that it had something to do with the reason why they were a thousand feet above the air, looking down at nothing but a vast white emptiness, that seemed to go on for miles. “But it’s not like that at all. Nothing’s changed.”_  
  
_The witcher had felt as though his heart was complete, even with the magic that had previously held both their hearts, he wanted nothing more than to express his emotions, to pour his heart onto to her. He knew that she wouldn’t shun him nor what he would tell her. She loved him, with her whole heart. He had loved her back in Rinde when he had taken a glimpse at who she had been, he loved her back in Vengerberg when she would tell him to settle for her, and when he would be with any other woman than her, he would think of her scent. Yennefer of Vengerberg was someone he would never want to stop loving or even forget, at least not for a third time._  
  
_But that is not what came out of his mouth, for a moment he was reminded of all the times he had believed that he had broken her heart. His head was filled with images of her telling him how he had made her weak, of her being weak for Geralt’s and Ciri’s sake. He had brought her so much pain over the past two decades. She was once a proud, unattainable sorceress, who had fallen because he had walked in on her life. “I’m sorry Yen, magic’s gone for me.” The wind around them had grown colder, more ferocious as they were surrounded by bitter snow that soon had engulfed them. Geralt had wanted to reach out, to save her from this nightmare that he knew was caused by him, but she was nowhere in sight._  
  
His eyes had opened with a start as they desperately looked around the room. The bed he was laying on was comfortable, more than he was accustomed to, which confused him for a little longer than he would have liked. Once his senses came back to him, his breathing calmed and he began seeing certain features in the darkness of his room. The trophy he had won from a Gwent tournament a weeks before, a large portrait of his daughter who was but a young girl when it had been made.  
  
Slowly, he had sat up, pushing the covers toward his knees and letting the air cool down his damp skin. The dream was nothing new, in fact, he had been having it on and off for the past month, and with each return brought anxiety to his mind. But the feeling would soon pass and he would return to himself once again. From outside of his toussaintois-styled home he could hear his farmhands and caregivers emerging from their homes just across the yard and animals all waking from their slumbers as the sun rose.  
  
Outside of his own home, Barnabas-Basil (or as he liked to call him B.B.), was entering and not a second later had knocked on his door. Geralt had covered his waist and allowed the majordomo to enter. As usual, B.B. had looked as though he was eager to discuss business with the Witcher.  
  
“Ah monsieur, Geralt, sorry if I had woken you from your dreams but a letter has arrived for you, it is from your daughter miss Cirilla.” He had brought forth a letter in what could only be covered in light brown fingerprints presumably belonging to the female witcher. Geralt had taken the note from him and thanked him. The man left the white-haired man to be alone in his room once more. He had torn open the letter and read its contents.  
  
_Dear Geralt, Ban Ard is beautiful this time of year, I wonder if you know that. There’s a patch of flowers that grow just outside of the city and they’re even better just as the sun is setting behind them. I hope you’re not worrying too much about my well being, I already have another person doing enough of that while I’m here. But I am fine, truly, well with a few more scars that_ is _. But that’s part of the job. I hope you’re also faring well, in your last letter you seemed a bit melancholic, more so than usual at least. Remember I’ll always listen if you need anything. If it helps, I’ll be on my way to Toussaint in a couple more weeks, I just need to finish up a few contracts and then I’ll be headed your way._  
_Love, your daughter._  
_P.S. Mama asked about you yesterday, about your health and if you were doing well. I told her you were, I think she misses you, do you miss her? As your friend of course._  
_P.P.S. You should know I miss you too. I’ll be with you before you know it._  
  
The date of the letter had been posted as a week before, meaning it would be another week or so before he could see her again. He had so much to tell her, about Regis, and his time in the warm comforts of Toussaint. There were times when the witcher had felt such strong feelings deep inside of him, and before he wouldn’t know how or what his feelings had meant. Now he had understood that it was a bit of pride and longing. For Ciri, and for Yennefer. He placed the letter on the stand next to his bed and fetched the armor he had kept away in a trunk in the corner of the room.  
  
Hours later he had found himself wandering the streets of Beauclair, finding himself near a notice board. He had read the titles of various contracts left by people either giving away things, looking for a specific item, advertising their products for ointments that most likely didn’t work or a poem of the day. Nothing for a drowner, or bruxae, or a job that he might actually be able to do. At least not in Beauclair, he would probably have to find work in another neighboring town. Before he could decide on where to go, a young boy no older than eleven had skipped towards him.  
  
“Excuse me, sir, I have a letter for you!” he stopped just inches from the man who easily towered over him, a yellowed piece of paper had been rolled up into his hands. He was reminded of when he had first come to Toussaint, how Yennefer had done something of the same manner.  
  
“A letter? Do you know who’s it from?” He asked curiously as had taken the parchment from the boy.  
  
“No sir, their name was never revealed to me.” He held out his hand, like most couriers, he had wanted a tip. Geralt had reached into the pouch that he had kept on him and gave the boy a few crowns. The witcher was soon left alone to read the second letter he had received that day, he had found a bench near him and sat down. He had a sneaking suspicion about who had sent it, because although it had traveled over a thousand miles to reach its destination, he could smell the faint scent of lilac and gooseberries.  
  
_Dear friend,_  
_How long has it been since we had last seen each other? I suppose four years now. We should have a drink sometime, I hope having one or two in your home near Beauclair is fine for you. And I won’t take no for answer because when Cirilla returns, I’ll be joining her during her ride over, we may even take one of my portals if she allows it. But she is stubborn, like you, and would most likely insist we go on horseback. I hope to see you soon, and that we can share our stories over a new bottle of wine, one that is quickly making it’s way up north. It’s called White Wolf, not sure if you have heard of it or not, but please have a bottle waiting for me and our daughter when we arrive. We’re both very fond of it._  
_Your friend, Yennefer._  
  
A warm smile had been brought to his face as he read over “our daughter” a few more times. He had started thinking about the things he would talk to them about, maybe bring up a few contracts he had in the past. And when he and Yen would have a few moments to themselves he would ask her how she was doing, where she was living, if she was seeing anyone, if she was happy. Maybe if he had gotten the chance he would show her the garden and tell her of the dreams he had been having recently.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a continuation to my piece "a raven's storm" but from Geralt's POV and four years after it's events. Also if you're following my story "of lilac and gooseberries" I'm sorry to say that I won't be posting it Tuesday because I'm having trouble thinking of what I want to do in this said chapter. Hope everyone is having a nice Valentine's Day.


End file.
